


Perfect

by Takada_Saiko



Series: Truth in the Lies [104]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Comics, F/M, First Christmas Together, secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: The Keens' first Christmas is not turning out how they expected it to when a snowstorm leaves them without electricity and traps them in their apartment, but that doesn't mean it can't be perfect.





	

Notes: This was written for  Blacklister214 over on Tumblr for the Tumblr Secret Santa gifts. I hope everyone has a fantastic and safe Christmas!

**Perfect**

It had been three days. Three days since the electricity had gone out without warning with the snow piled so high outside that they couldn't get the car out if they had been brave enough to try. They were basically trapped, and while Tom had managed to talk his wife of just over a month down the first day, reminding her how romantic it could be if they grabbed a few candles and scooted in close for warmth, by the third day even he was starting to run out of positive ways to spin the situation. The food was all going bad in the fridge, the candles had been burned down so they were no longer useful, and they had missed their flight to see Liz's dad for Christmas. She couldn't sit still, pacing the apartment and finding fault in every little thing. He'd finally snapped at her, causing her to turn a vicious glare on him before turning and storming out of the living room, slamming the door to their bedroom behind her hard enough that the wall shook.

Tom pulled in a deep breath, still curled under the afghan he had been trying to coax her under when the yell fest had started. He hadn't meant to bite back. He usually had much better self control than that, but every now and again she hit just the wrong button. It was a talent of hers.

Blue eyes scanned the shadowy room and landed on the still-boxed Christmas tree they were yet to put up. Boxes of decorations lay around it, shoved out of the path so they wouldn't stump their toes in the dark. Slowly, deciding he needed to do something other than sit there freezing alone on the couch, he uncurled his long legs and stood, risking a glance at the closed door and feeling a tightness in his chest that he was certain he didn't like.

It was quiet in the apartment. No heater hummed, no one's music was playing too loudly next door. The funny thing was he had really been looking forward to this Christmas. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually celebrated it, and as he opened up the box and began pulling the artificial tree out piece by piece, he let his mind wander. It wasn't like Christmas had been a priority at St Regis. There had never been a tree put up and if any of the kids were bothered by the lack of festivities, they never said so. He hadn't thought twice about it by that point in his life.

There had been a couple of foster homes over the years that the parents running it had tried to include him in the celebrations. He'd been wary of it when he was small, looking for what they would want in return for the gifts, and by the time he'd hit his teens he hadn't _wanted_ to participate. Why set himself up when it wouldn't last? That lesson had been learned relatively early. He thought it had been, anyway.

Tom straightened as he heard the door open to bedroom and Liz peeked out. She looked cold, exhausted, and miserable, pulling the afghan she had wrapped around her shoulders a little tighter. "You're putting up the tree."

"It's Christmas Eve."

"Yeah," she murmured noncommittally and shuffled over to the couch. She sat down hard and curled up there, her gaze fixed on him as he straightened the last branch out up at the top of the tree. "It was supposed to be perfect, you know?"

Tom looked over to her and found her bright gaze fixed on him. He tried for a smile, but it didn't catch. Instead Liz just shifted, burrowing a little deeper. "Dad wanted us to come so badly and Aunt June was going to make these _amazing_ cookies that she does every year. They're almond filled and she freezes them. They were my favourite as a kid, and… I know you and Craig aren't as close as you could be, and that you lost your parents and I just… It's our first Christmas married, Tom. It was supposed to be perfect."

He winced at the pain in her voice and reached a hand out. "I'm sorry for snapping," he offered as she took it, her fingers just as cold as his.

"I'm sorry for yelling," she huffed. "This is just… What if all our Christmases are going to be like this?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he chuckled. "You want to help me with the ornaments?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand, and she let him lead her to sit on the floor with him to go through the boxes. Most of them were hers, brought with her into their home together, but she seemed to zero in on the one that he'd contributed that year.

In all of the chaos, he'd almost forgotten, but as he watched the woman he loved hold the little gingerbread man up he felt a real smile tug his lips. She echoed it. "What's this?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"A Christmas ornament," he answered, his smile only growing.

"Uh-huh. It has our name on it."

"Didn't I tell you we were making ornaments in class the other day?" Tom asked, plucking his glasses off his nose to clean them. He glanced over to find her grinning mischievously at him before turning her attention back to the little gingerbread man, her thumb running across where _The Keens_ was scrawled in his handwriting. "I wanted something just for us. Not something you could buy or… or that could have just picked up on a whim, you know? Something that's _ours_."

It sounded silly, now that he was saying it, and he'd lost himself for just a moment, letting too much slip. He swallowed hard, hoping that the traces of his old Chicago accent would go with it. He was about to put his glasses back on, when he found Liz rocking forward on her knees, her lips instantly pressed against his. After half a beat he dropped the glasses, freeing up his hands so that he could pull her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held on tight, feeling a warmth rush through him. He loved her and she loved him. Sometimes, in moments like this, he thought she might even be willing to love the man beneath the mask he had to wear. Those moments when he knew he slipped, when Jacob Phelps spoke to her, and she didn't pull away. Instead she moved closer and loved him more. He didn't deserve her, but he was certain he didn't want to ever be without her.

Liz giggled as they rocked back and she landed on top of him, pressing another playful kiss to his lips. "We were supposed to be decorating the tree."

"I love you," he breathed, caught up in her.

Her smile was so soft in that moment and her cold fingers brushed against his face. "Love you too. Let's have Christmas, babe. Just the two of us."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. That's all we need," she promised and kissed him again before hopping up.

Slowly he followed her, smiling as he watched her hang the new ornament in a prominent position on the tree. They laughed and teased as they decorated their tree, all the stress of earlier washing away so that they didn't even notice when the electricity kicked back on. Nothing else mattered but the two of them. They were each other's family, their home, and as long as that remained, Tom was certain that every holiday with her would be exactly as it should be. Perfect.


End file.
